


Joue le Jeu, Amour (Play the Game, Lover)

by orphan_account



Series: French Porn [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Language Kink, M/M, Sexual Content, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of a tumblr prompt:</p><p>Bones loves it when Jim speaks French so he tries to get him to do it when they aren’t in bed. Like, he walks around all day only speaking to Jim in french but Jim is an ass and only answers him in English and won’t give Bones what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joue le Jeu, Amour (Play the Game, Lover)

Bones goes to great lengths to perfect his French over the next month or so, baring in mind that Bones has a better feel for Italian. Bones scoffs just thinking about it, Jim’s so cocky, so damn clever and it just… It makes his heart race, makes him breathless. 

It makes wearing his damn trousers practically unbearable. 

He keeps it secret from Jim, of course, because it needs to be a  _surprise._ Turn about’s fair play, an’ all that.

Bones’ relationship with languages is a tentative one at best. He’d studied Spanish and Cardassian in high school and picked up bits and pieces of a variety of medical related jargon in whatever language was relevant. But he’d never really been very linguistically  _talented_ , or that interested to be fair.

But then, someone reciting poetry to you while you’re balls deep inside them is probably the most sure fire way to change your opinion on a language. 

So Bones learns French, aims to beat Jim at his own game. 

It’s 0500, it’s warm under the mound of blankets Bones insists on this time of year. Jim’s skin is soft and warm and Bones has no qualms about pressing a few gentle kisses to his stomach. How Jim’s managed to maneuver himself so he’s lying with the length of his against the headboard, Bones couldn’t say. But he takes advantage of it, licking and sucking at Jim’s hips until he starts to stir.

“‘m cold,” Jim murmurs, voice still rough with sleep. 

"Viens sous la couette, chéri," Bones whispers, smirking when Jim’s head lifts off the pillow, one eye open, hair mussed. Bones wants to kiss him so bad. 

"You’ve been holding out on me, Bones," Jim murmurs, curving slightly, shuffling back down on the bed, so he’s lying with his calves loosely around Bones’ torso. 

"Je sais ce que je préfererais que tu tiennes," Bones smirks, turning to press his face into the crook of Jim’s neck, his face heating. 

"Oh, that’s bad, Bones, so bad," Jim rolls his eyes, carding his hand through Bones’ hair. "But I’ve got a flight sim in forty minutes," he says ruefully, rolling out of the bed, "I get why you hate winter." 

"Don’t change the damn subject," Bones huffs, watching Jim’s bare arse bounce and tense as he putters around the room trying to gather a clean uniform together. He huffs again, pointedly. 

"Don’t pout," Jim counters, turning back to him with a smirk plastered to his face. So Bones sighs, throws his head back on the pillow like a petulant child and tries to plot another way of luring Jim into speaking French outside the bedroom. 

#

"Amour, pourquoi ne viendrais-tu pas au lit?" Bones asks that evening, when he gets in from his clinic shift, Jim still sat at their desk, pouring over PADDs. 

"I can’t yet, Bones, I’ve got a paper to finish," Jim says gently, turning to kiss Bones’ cheek but then dipping his head down again to continue typing. 

"Je serai sous la douche si tu changes d'avis," Bones says, letting his drawl slip low, watching as the hairs on the back of Jim’s neck raise. 

"Tease," he snorts softly. 

But Jim is still sitting at the desk when Bones gets out of the shower and it doesn’t look like he’ll be moving any time soon. 

“‘m goin’ to bed.”

#

He wakes up to Jim’s lips kissing lines up his thighs, a pleased noise escapes his mouth before he frowns and pulls his legs closed, Jim’s chin getting caught in the fray.  

"Hey," Jim exclaims, clearly surprised, setting his hands on the outside of Bones’ thighs. 

"Qu'est-ce que j'y gagne?" Bones teases, hitching his knees up to rest against Jim’s chest. 

"Don’t, Bones," Jim smirks, "you’ll lose this game," he warns, leaning down to kiss the top of Bones’ shin. 

"J'ai passé un an sans sexe, Jim, tu ne tiendrais même pas un jour," Bones shrugs, liking the way his tongue curls over the unfamiliar vowels. Jim likes the sound of it too, if the way he’s trying to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head is any indication. 

"You wouldn’t," Jim says, shaking his head, slightly unsure of himself. Bones knows he only needs this touch of uncertainly, that he can strike now that the iron is hot. Steaming, even. 

"Tout ce que tu as à faire est de demander, James," Bones says, tilting his head, batting his eyelashes. Jim groans resting his forehead on the doctor’s knees. 

"Please," Jim whines, breath ghosting over Bones’ legs. 

"Mauvaise langue," Bones states, not taking his eyes from Jim’s. 

Jim looks at him, Bones is sure he’ll refuse, he’s got this defiance in his eyes. Jim hates to lose - but this wouldn’t be a no win scenario, this would just be giving in. Jim hates that too. So Bones arches back slightly, knowing his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Jim moans again, making a strangled noise. 

"S'il te plaît," he amends with a deep exhale. Bones grins like a shark. 

"Parfait," he whispers, letting Jim push his thighs open. 

"Tu es méprisable," Jim whispers, smiling despite himself. 

"J'ai appris du meilleur," Bones admits, then he smirks, tensing his legs again, "tu n’avez pas encore demandé, James."

"Tu es incroyable," Jim pouts, "me forcer à mendier." 

"Arrête de te plaindre," Bones chides, honey-sweet accent turning sticky with deepening arousal as he watches Jim reach for the bottle of lube still under the coverlet from two days ago. 

"Je te veux, Bones, laisse-moi t'avoir," Jim murmurs, squeezing a dollop of lube onto his fingers, waiting for Bones’ permission. 

"Baise-moi, Jim," Bones says, biting his lip. 

"Tu as même appris des mots cochons," Jim grins, circling a lubed finger around Bones’ hole. 

"God, darlin’, you’re gonna kill me," he murmurs, catching himself just as Jim laughs, "je viens-"

"Tu aurais dû _demander_ ,” Jim smirks, slipping his finger past the ring of muscle, pushing in to the knuckle. Bones gasps, loses whatever retort he had planned and arches his back, legs falling open wider. 

"More, Jim, more," Bones pleads. 

"Joue le jeu, amour," Jim whispers, drawing his finger back. 

“ _Plus_ ,” Bones whimpers, “s’il te plaît.”

His voice breaks over the ‘v’ and Jim chuckles, slipping in a second finger alongside the first. 

“ _Plus_ , Jim,” Bones gasps, rutting back against Jim’s finger. 

"Patience," Jim whispers, French accent still wrapping around his voice, making Bones shiver and buck. Jim scissors his fingers, trying to open Bones up, pausing to massage his prostate. Bones just gasps, chest heaving as he pants. 

When Jim finally slides home, after an  _eternity_  of teasing - on both their parts - Bones almost comes right there. And he might have, if Jim’s hand wasn’t curled around the base of his cock. 

"Du calme," Jim reminds, breath hitching. 

Bones breathes, pulling himself back from the edge and slowly un-clenching from around Jim. When Jim starts thrusting in earnest he whispers “ce n’est pas de l’amour que l’amour qui change quand il voit un changement.”

"Oh, Christ," Bones whimpers, he’s so close, he tries to remember the number that goes with the words, a hundred, a hundred and sixteen, he’s sure of it. 

"Et qui répond toujours à un pas en arrière par un pas en arrière," he continues, but Bones has been dying for this for too long and he comes hard in Jim’s hand, tightening around Jim’s cock. " _Fuck_ ,” Jim grunts, filling Bones before he slumps forward, hips still starting through the aftershocks. 

"Merci," Bones whispers, all traces of a French accent gone, Jim smiles, placing a kiss to Bones’ chest. 

"Hmm," Jim agrees, "merci." 


End file.
